Time Warp
by Michael Winges
Summary: Long ago, the Dark One scattered the pieces of a time portal across time and space. Young Emma chances upon one, and winds up in an earlier Neverland. Pan trains her, and she becomes powerful. What she does not know is that the Jones Brothers are coming for her. Will they let her go back to her own time? Will she want to? What if Pan loves her? Eventual Lieutenant Duckling very AU.


_Dearest Reader,_

_I am writing this story because I feel that it will flow better than my other ones. Also, I wanted to let all of you know some things:_

_I will be going on a short hiatus (a week and a half) due to Band Camp._

_I will have a lot more time to write this semester, considering that I am a Creative Writing Major. _

_I want to apologize for the small hiatus that I had these past few weeks. Please PM me to keep me writing. I have gotten lazy, and thus I developed Writer's Block. I must also apologize for the historical inaccuracies, because I wanted Emma to have a couple of moments where she would share artifacts from our realm with the fairy tale characters._

_Please read, write and review. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated!_

_-MW_

Once upon a time, a powerful, kind wizard went out into all of the realms to try to get rid of all evil. He made potions, created spells, and even tried True Love's Kiss - but none of these were strong enough to break evil's spell. He soon came to the conclusion that he could never rid the world of evil - at least, not completely. So, he tried to create a time portal that would take everything evil to another, darker time - a time where they could prosper without harming anyone during his time. The wizard's plans were foiled, however, by an evil sorcerer, called the Dark One. He wanted to stay and wreak havoc on those in his time period. 

When it came time for the time portal to be opened, the Dark One appeared. Enraged, he tore the portal apart, scattering the pieces across realms and times. These pieces became invisible. If you were to step into one, you would have no idea where you would wind up. 

Distraught, the kind wizard decided to spend the rest of his days in solitude. He was never seen or heard from again.

_

Thirteen-year-old Emma did not know where she was. All she knew was that she had been walking down the street, heading home after school (if you could call the orphanage a home) and then she was in the middle of a humid forest. She had no idea what had happened. It had felt like she was flying and falling at the same time. She just wanted to get back to Mrs. Johnson's orphanage. Terrified, she curled up into a ball on the forest floor and started to cry. After what seemed like hours, a voice called out to her. 

"Why are you crying?" Emma jumped up to find a young boy - about fifteen years old - standing not too far from her. She hastily wiped her tears away. 

"'M not crying," she mumbled, sniffling softly. The blond boy smirked, stepping closer to her. 

"Emma, why are you crying?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"How do you know my name, kid?" She demanded. "And where the hell are we?" The boy tutted at her. 

"I asked you first," he said, his voice low. Emma looked down. She hated admitting her weaknesses. 

"I'm scared. I don't know where I am. I don't know what is going on. And I just want to go home." The boy nodded, folding his arms over his chest. He looked away from Emma, towards the ground near her feet. 

"My name is Peter. This is my home. I normally don't allow girls to stay here - they can be quite distracting. However, you are very pretty. Beautiful, even. I will let you stay here for as long as I like. I just want to know how you got here in the first place." The whole time, Peter practically danced around her - twirling this way and that, pirouetting about. His emerald eyes were dark with something that Emma did not recognize. She looked away from his burning gaze, wanting nothing more than to go home.

"I… I'm not sure. I was walking down Mallard Avenue, listening to my iPod-"

"What the bloody hell is an iPod?" Peter gaped at her. Rolling her eyes, Emma took the device from her pocket. He looked at it, wondering what it did. Looking around her, she located her headphones and plugged them in. She explained how to wear them, and turned on the music. The screen said that it was playing "Alone Together" by Fall Out Boy. She smiled, thinking back to her first concert. Peter's voice brought her back to the present.

"What form of sorcery is this?" His hands grasped hers to take a better look. He came to stand next to hers. _Sorcery,_ she thought. _What the actual fuck?_ Peter looked at the device like it was some kind of magical possession. When the song finished, Emma explained how it worked.

"Electricity runs through the device. Not magic. You can pick whatever song you want to hear from the songs that you have on your library – where you store your songs. You also hook up your iPod to your computer…" And on she went, explaining various electronics and how they worked. Not many people knew, but she had learned how to hack into places. She never did anywhere important – just a local Wal-Mart's Wi-Fi, or the local coffee shop's bank records. She never stole anything, never looking for any information. She only wanted to test her limits. Because of this, she knew the ins and outs of the computer in her backpack. The eleven-inch MacBook Air that she had worked her ass off for at both the library and the auto body shop in the small town of Brookings, Virginia, that she now carried in her backpack. The latter of the two jobs, she only worked the front desk because of child labor laws and because the men handling the cars in the back did not want her to get hurt. Even still, she would help out on miniscule tasks, such as getting the carburetor and changing the oil. She had lied about her age at the time, but it would not matter in a few months. She would be fourteen by the thirtieth of October, and she would be set.

Emma yawned, finally noticing how dark it actually was. Peter nodded and took her arms in his firm grasp. He began to lead her through the trees on what seemed like a path toward an encampment. She smelled smoke and fire ahead, and whoops and yells began echoing from the trees. All of this seemed vaguely familiar to Emma – as if she had heard it in a story. Oh, how she wished she had her story book. She wished she could read the days away in the library, or write novels for a living, but she knew that she would never be good enough to make it big. Shaking her head, she came back to the present. A small boy ran up to Peter and hugged his middle.

"Peter's home," the little one exclaimed. He couldn't be more than four or five. The boys in the encampment all cheered on as Peter led Emma into the clearing. The noise died down as soon as Emma came into view.

"A _girl_?" One of the older boys protested. He was tall, but was probably no older than twelve in all actuality. Emma huffed in indignation. "Peter, you can't be serious."

"Listen up, you lot," Peter shouted at the boys. "This is Emma. I will be training her. No one is to lay a _finger_ on her unless she permits it. If you do, the punishment will be quite severe. Got that?" Emma flinched. _How barbaric! I'm not _that_ special, am I?_ She was shaken out reverie when the small boy tugged on the hem of her shirt. She looked down to see his dirt covered face and bright blue eyes. She squatted down to his eye level to speak to him. She always did this with her little foster brothers and sisters whenever they wanted attention.

'Hey there," she said, placing her backpack on the ground. "What's your name?" She smiled at him, tentatively brushing hair away from his eyes. His attire, like all of the other boys – except for Peter – was a brown cloak that covered most of his body. His seemed to be too big for him.

"I'm Aiden," he said, smiling widely. Emma laughed and mussed up his light brown hair.

"How old are you, Aiden?" At this, he shrugged. Emma frowned, brows furrowing. "Well, how do you not know how old you are?"

"People age differently here than in any other realm, Emma," Peter's voice sounded from above her. She looked up at him, confused.

"What's a 'realm?' And how do I get back to mine? Can I get back to the day I left? Can I get back to September 2, 1997? Please?" Peter blanched and came down to her level.

"You're from the future?" He demanded. It was Emma's turn to turn white.

"What is today's date," she whispered, horrified. Peter ran a hand through his hair in exasperation and looked away from Emma.

"Well, time moves differently here in Neverland-"

"_We're in Neverland?!"_ Emma screeched, standing up. She could not believe it. Neverland was a fictional place, where no one grew up and violence occurred all over the place. She looked at all of the boys around her – _the Lost Boys_, she realized. Panicked, she bolted from the area, running as fast as her legs could take her. After running for what felt like forever, she tripped over a giant tree root and fell flat on her face. Grunting in pain, she tried to get up.

"I wouldn't do that," Pan's voice called out just behind her. Shivering out of fear, she stopped struggling. Emma was not afraid of Peter Pan; on the contrary, she was afraid that she was going insane. His hand came out of nowhere, trying to help her up. He crouched down and looked into her bright green eyes. She did not take the hand, so he let it drop.

"Why do you fear me _now_? Why does it matter that we are in Neverland-"

"Because you're just stories," Emma blurted out. When Peter looked confused, she heaved herself up – with great effort – and the two walked (or, in Emma's case, limped) back to the camp. When they got there, the boys were looking at Emma's backpack with great curiosity. She picked it up and unzipped it. She always had her two favorite stories on her: _The Princess Bride_ and _Peter Pan_. When she found her battered book, she tossed it to Peter, who caught it and read the title with a smirk. "See, to me, you are all characters in a book." At that, Peter put the book on a log circling the fire pit and walked over to her. Everyone in the vicinity watched as Peter gently pressed his lips to Emma's. She did not protest – although she was terrified, she was too shocked to move because this was her first kiss, and it was with fucking _Peter Pan_. When he pulled away, his smirk was there once again.

"Am I real to you now, Emma?" She could not respond. All of her emotions were running haywire. He laughed at her before whispering, "Breathe, Emma." She had not known that she had been holding her breath. Exhaling slowly, she finally nodded.

"Yes," she said. "You are real." Suddenly, she felt completely exhausted. She swayed in the encampment, and then the world suddenly went black.


End file.
